Helping Hand
by xXxNeonSoundxXx
Summary: An accident has occurred, leaving [Name]'s dominant arm in a thick, plaster cast. Arakita knows that it's going to be difficult for her to achieve even the simplest of tasks without the use of her hand, but just how far is he willing to go to help the poor girl out? [Arakita x Reader]
1. Chapter 1

Walking through the hallways of Hakone Academy, Arakita grumbled as he shuffled his ways past a plethora of students. Morning practice had been grueling and, despite the cool rinse off he'd had afterward, the cyclist was still in no mood to interact with anyone more than necessary. The scowl that was set onto his face was directed in the direction of anyone who dared to give him a passing glance, effectively scaring them off from the moody teen. There was still chatter going on everywhere however and, much to Arakita's annoyance, he couldn't do anything to stop that problem.

After having stopped by his locker for a quick moment to pick up his needed books, Arakita trudged on his way to his classroom. On any normal day the class would only be half full by the time he got there, leaving him enough time for at least some peace and quiet before another difficult day in class began. Usually he'd like to spend the minutes before class at his seat, eyes closed and mind unfocused as he tried to sneak in a few more minutes of sleep. Unfortunately for the cyclist, today was not one of those normal days.

Upon opening the door to his classroom, Arakita was met face to face with the sight of over half his class already inside. Confused for a moment, he glanced over at the clock on the wall, confirming that he was indeed still a little early to class. He would have shrugged off the unusual occasion for something that happened only once in a blue moon, but the amount of noise his classmates were making and the way they were all crowded around one seat in particular—the seat next to his—told him that something else was off about today. Curiosity officially peaked, Arakita slinked his way through the small crowd of students to see what all the hubbub was about. Those who saw him coming moved out of the way, allowing him access to the person who had been stealing all the attention in class.

"Oh, Arakita, good morning!"

Glancing down at the girl seated in her desk, Arakita found his curiosity about the crowd lessening only to be replaced by even more unanswered questions. The girl sitting in the desk, who was currently ignoring one of her friends fussing over her, was waving at him in greeting. With her non-dominant hand.

"What the hell happened to you, [Name]," he asked gruffly.

Pushing a few people out of his way, Arakita plopped himself down into his seat beside her, dropping his bag next to him with an audible thud. His eyes were directed at her—or rather, her dominant arm—as he eyed out the thick cast that encased it. Already a few of their classmates had scrawled messages onto the off-white plaster in colorful permanent marker and Arakita could make out short messages of 'get well soon's and 'I hope you feel better's.

Realizing that the group conversation was over as [Name] had already begun shifting her full attention to the dark haired cyclist, the group of classmates slowly dispersed. Only some of [Name]'s closest friends stuck nearby, but they didn't bother to interrupt the conversation she was having with her seatmate.

"I got into an accident during club activities and broke a bone in my arm," she explained, lifting her injury slightly for emphasis. Despite the furrow in her brows that told him she was upset at herself for getting hurt, there was still a persistent smile on her face. "The doctor said it'll probably take a couple of months to heal."

"Idiot, why can't you ever stay out of trouble?" In spite of the rude words, Arakita's tone of voice softened just slightly as he watched the way [Name]'s arm trembled as she placed it gently back onto her desk. Her only response to his rude question was a movement in her shoulders that somewhat resembled a half-assed shrug.

Rolling his eyes as a final retort, Arakita leaned back in his seat and turned his gaze away from [Name], effectively ending the short conversation. He didn't need any further details and, noticing that her seatmate had lost interest, [Name] returned to her conversation with her friends who were impatiently standing around. She would have plenty of time to tell Arakita the gruesome details of her injury later that day when they were eating lunch together.

With the conversation ended and Arakita leaning back in his chair for some before-class relaxation, the dark haired cyclist tried to rest his eyes for a bit. This task proved fruitless however, because every time he found himself nodding off, his eyes would wander and end up fixating themselves on the colorfully signed cast on [Name]'s arm. He knew how frustrating it could be getting an injury from doing something you enjoy and he also knew how difficult the recovery afterward could be. It didn't help her situation at all that she had just so happened to injure her dominant arm, essentially making her hand useless as well. There were going to be plenty of things—easy things—that she would have to relearn how to do just to survive the next few months ahead.

Noticing his stare, [Name] waved her good hand in front of his eyes to gain Arakita's full attention before asking, "Is there something you needed, Arakita?"

Flushing slightly from having been caught mid-stare, Arakita masked his gaffe with a scoffing snort. "Yeah, I need you to cover up that damn arm of yours," he countered, waving a hand flippantly in her direction. "Those bright colors from all the markers are starting to give me a headache."

It was going to be a long, vexing next couple of months.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of graphite running coarsely against paper filled the room as every student tried their best to keep up with the teacher's explanation. He was speaking fast, his hand only a couple seconds behind as he wrote the notes on the board that he expected each student to copy down. Class that day had begun a few minutes late and, as such, he'd decided to speed things up for a bit in hopes they could still achieve the day's agenda. He would write in straight lines, filling up the dry erase board to max capacity before going back to the beginning, erasing everything, and writing more notes for the students to follow. Without asking the class whether they were ready to move on or not, he could only hope that they were capable of jotting everything down.

"Ugh, I wish he'd slow down just a bit."

Muttering to herself under her breath, [Name] tried her best to write down the words her teacher was currently putting on the board. Without the use of her dominant hand, copying notes during class proved to be a rather difficult task. The pencil she held was weak in her grip, causing it to slip about on the page as she tried to write. More often than not, she would make a mistake and draw a line longer than needed or make a mark that was barely visible, so she would need to go back with her eraser or pencil to fix the problem. Her non-dominant hand had started to tremble, still not used to the work it took to write a proper sentence.

Noticing the difficulty that [Name] was having writing even one word from the board, let alone an entire paragraph of notes, Arakita couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated at their teacher for not slowing down a little. With an annoyed growl, he kicked his legs out in front of him, knocking his feet against the seat in front of him by accident, but the subsequent noise it made proved to be in his favor. Both the teacher and the class turned to look at him with wary eyes, wondering what had set him off this time around. [Name] was looking at him in bewilderment, completely at a loss for why her seatmate would suddenly get so aggressive for what seemed to be no reason at all.

"Oi, you're moving too fast," he complained rather loudly in the teacher's direction, throwing his pencil down onto his desk for emphasis. "I can't copy down everything that fast." He had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing at his teacher; his goal was to help [Name] out, not get himself in trouble.

With a heavy sigh, the older man at the front of the classroom turned back to the dry erase board and began writing once more, saying, "Arakita-san, do you honestly think professors in university would bow down to your whim and slow their lecture? If you can't keep up, it'll have to be something you need to get used to in the future." As if mocking him, Arakita swore he saw the teacher speed up their writing further.

Feeling as if he was already at his boiling point for the day, Arakita's muscles tensed up as he got ready to jump out of his seat to confront his teacher. A single hand reaching across to land on his shoulder stopped him though, and he looked over at [Name]. She was glaring at him, shaking her head to discourage him from doing anything too brash. The single pulse her good hand gave his shoulder was enough to somewhat calm him down and he resorted to leaning back in his seat instead, tapping his foot against the linoleum floor in frustration.

Noting that Arakita no longer looked like he wanted to murder the teacher, [Name] retreated her hand from his shoulder in favor for picking up her pencil. She had realized Arakita's intention when he complained about not being able to copy the notes down fast enough and, though she was happy he was speaking up for her, she didn't want him to get in trouble either. She went back to taking notes, her hand shaking a bit from the unfamiliar action and causing her words to look barely legible. Watching her for a moment, Arakita was reminded of the reason he had spoken up in the first place.

Frustration seeped into him once more. His first plan to help [Name] out with her note taking had backfired tremendously, but there had to be some other thing he could do. Glancing down at his own notebook that lay open on his desk, he eyed out the blank pages. He had taken some notes down, only jotting on the page what he deemed as important, but halfway through class he had stopped taking notes out of boredom. Glancing back over to what [Name] was writing, he saw that she had just gotten to the point where he had stopped writing.

Clicking his tongue, Arakita picked up his pencil and began taking notes once more. He shifted his gaze back and forth between his papers and the board, quickly writing down notes as the teacher went over them. It wasn't until he had finished taking about a paragraph of notes that he realized his normal handwriting wasn't the best. With an irritated growl—which everyone around him chose to ignore—Arakita went back and started rewriting his notes from the beginning in a more legible script. It was tasking having to write neat and fast at the same time, but somehow he was able to manage it.

By the time the end of class rolled around, [Name] had long since given up on taking notes. Her non-dominant hand had started to cramp up due to getting overworked and she just couldn't see herself catching up with the notes she needed. It wasn't something she would look forward to doing, but she would need to ask a few friends if she could copy their notes. Knowing how slowly she wrote with her non-dominant hand, it most likely would take all night to complete.

With lunch officially starting, [Name] slowly started to pack away her pencils and notebooks as the rest of class rushed to leave the room. As she was struggling to shift through her bag with one hand, the flutter of papers landing on her desk caught her attention. Looking at them, she noticed some unusually nice handwriting and what appeared to be the lecture notes for the day.

"What's this for?" Turning her gaze over toward Arakita, she tilted her head in question.

Refusing to look her in the eye, he barked out a, "What does it look like, dumbass? They're today's notes."

A grin spread onto [Name]'s face as she picked up the small stack of papers, flipping through a few of them to confirm that they were indeed the complete set of notes for the day. She was careful to place them in her bag, sticking them between a couple of folders where she would be able to find them later.

"Thanks, Arakita," she cooed in appreciation, her tone transforming into a teasing one as she continued with, "Who knew you could be such a sweet guy when you put your mind to it."

With an unflattering snort, Arakita picked up his bag and began walking toward the exit of the room. "It's not like I was going to be studying with them, anyway. Just don't expect it to happen every day," he warned. "Hurry up, or we're going to miss lunch."

"Yes, sir!"


	3. Chapter 3

With the sun high in the sky and the wind blowing a gentle breeze over the campus, it was the perfect day for the students of Hakone Academy to eat outside. The tables that were scattered across the courtyard had filled up quickly, groups and cliques picking out their usual spots for days like these. Chatter filled the air as some students stayed behind to claim tables and chairs while others went ahead to purchase lunch for the rest. It seemed that every student at Hakone Academy had the same thought in mind and that was to spend the beautiful day outside during their lunch period.

"I told you, we should have stayed inside to eat," Arakita grumbled as he crouched down to sit in the grass. Above him, a large tree was casting shadows on the ground, miniscule spots where the sun was able to peek through dancing on the ground as the wind shook the leaves. "There isn't anywhere to sit except for on the ground now."

"But isn't that better?" [Name] wobbled a bit as she sat on the ground next to him, her good hand holding on to the bento she had just bought for dear life lest she spill her food. "It's such a nice day outside, Arakita. Don't be a spoil sport."

The dark haired cyclist let out a few more indistinct grumbles as he opened up the package of melon bread he had bought, the plastic wrapping making a familiar crinkling sound as it easily tore open. He took a rather large first bite, stuffing his mouth with the familiar food as he cast a glance over in [Name]'s direction. Through his full mouth, he tried to ask her about the cast on her arm, but doing so proved difficult as he nearly gagged on the bread he had stuffed in there. Chewing a few more times, he swallowed half of what was in his mouth before trying again.

"So, what happened that caused that disaster?" He gestured toward her cast covered arm, his tone seemingly bored as he went in for another bite of his bread.

"It's a little bit of a long story," [Name] responded. She had finally managed to remove the plastic wrapping that clung to her bento and was proceeding to open it. The wooden chopsticks that had come with them lay in her lap, still stuck together in the way they had come. "First off, let me say that it wasn't completely my fault. I had no idea that I would slip so easily." She paused, picking up the wooden chopsticks and staring at it for a moment. How was she supposed to open this without using her other hand?

Noticing her momentary pause, Arakita snatched the pair of chopsticks out of [Name]'s good hand. He took them out of the paper wrapping before snapping them apart. The end of the chopsticks skewed, causing one of them to be fatter than the other, but he paid no attention to that as he handed the eating utensil back to her. Giving him a grateful smile, [Name] positioned her chopsticks in her non-dominant hand and proceeded to poke at her bento. As she tried to pick up a piece of food, she continued her story.

"Anyway, we needed something from the storage room and I had volunteered to go, but the thing we needed was on a really high shelf. I got a chair from the other room to—oops!" Interrupting herself, [Name] looked crestfallen as the piece of carrot she had struggled to pick up slipped from her chopsticks, falling to the grassy ground below. Arm slightly wobbling, far from used to feeding herself wither opposite hand, she accepted her loss and quickly went to grab for another piece of food. "I got a chair from the other room to help me reach it, but I didn't notice how slippery the floor was so—darn it, again?"

Stuffing the rest of his bread into his mouth, Arakita watched as [Name] helplessly dropped yet another piece of her bento onto the floor below. She groaned a bit before continuing on with her story, trying her best to simultaneously feed herself. This continued on for about a minute with [Name] constantly interrupting herself as she dropped piece after piece of her lunch. After a while, she had asked him to give her a moment. Maybe concentrating on one thing at a time would help.

Hand wobbling as she moved her chopsticks, [Name] focused her attention completely on the cherry tomato she wanted to eat. She successfully grabbed it with her chopsticks and proceeded to carefully pick it up out of the bento. Her non-dominant arm shook a bit as she tried to lift it to her lips. Leaning forward a bit, [Name] was sure she would be able to get it this time. Three inches, two inches, one inch…

"Darn it!" [Name] cussed a bit as she dropped the cherry tomato. Luckily for her, it had fallen right back into the bento; however, unluckily, it bounced slightly upon impact before falling right out of the container. "Arakita, can you feed me instead?"

Choking a bit at her sudden request, he gave her a bewildered look. "Did you hit your head when you fell too? I can't do that, idiot."

"Arakita, come on! I'm going to starve before my arm heals at this rate!"

Rolling his eyes at her overdramatic behavior, Arakita once again snatched the pair of chopsticks from her hand, careful not to bump into her injured arm. His eyes searched around for any potential people who knew him that could act as witness to his next actions. Noticing none, he proceeded to snatch a piece of food from her bento. He snatched the last cherry tomato, picking it up and holding it skillfully just a couple centimeters away from her lips. When she still hadn't moved from her position, Arakita growled a bit and made a slight movement with the chopsticks.

"Well, aren't you going to eat it?" His eye twitched in annoyance and he nudged her lips with the cherry tomato, causing [Name] to back up a bit. "What the hell is wrong now? I'm doing what you wanted, aren't I?"

"I didn't actually expect you to agree so quickly," [Name] said with a teasing smile as she proceeded to lean toward him. She wrapped her mouth around the cherry tomato, pulling away from the chopsticks he was holding for her. Humming in bliss, she said, "Thank you, Arakita. I won't starve after all!"

Huffing out a 'whatever', Arakita continued feeding her bits and pieces of her bento. The light flush that was on his face as he did so faded in and out as the seconds passed. [Name] continued on with her story every time she had the chance and, whenever she would pause for more than a few seconds, Arakita would stuff another piece of food into her mouth. Every so often he would subconsciously place a piece of food in his own mouth instead, chewing absentmindedly on the end of her chopsticks. Despite noticing this, [Name] didn't tell him of his distracted action. It wouldn't hurt to share her lunch with him at least a little bit.


	4. Chapter 4

Stalking down the hallways in the dorm building, Arakita growled as he had one destination in mind. In his hand, his cellphone was being held tightly in his angered grip. Every so often it would vibrate as a new message was received and Arakita would tense his fingers around it, not even bothering to check the unread messages. He already knew who they were from.

All day he had been taking care of small things for [Name]; picking up her pens and pencils when she dropped them, opening her locker, grabbing things from her bag, and more. It had started to become quite frustrating when she would ask for help, giving him an innocent stare and that damned smile. When what felt like the longest day of school finally ended, Arakita thought he would finally catch a break from her helplessness—she would be going back to the dorms for the night and he would be going off to practice—but fate had other plans.

Upon arriving back to the locker rooms after another grueling practice, Arakita had been greeted with the awful sound of metal shaking against metal as his cellphone vibrated incessantly in his locker. The moment he opened it and checked his phone, he knew only one person would be contacting him this much in such a short amount of time. He'd left the locker room in a rush, steaming anger billowing from his being.

"Damn it, [Name], who the hell leaves thirty messages on my phone in five minutes?!" His outburst, along with the loud slam of her room's door, reverberated through the room. Holding up his phone, he pointed to the plethora of texts she had sent him. "I'm really starting to think you might be related to Toudou."

Ignoring his last statement, [Name] dropped her own phone out of her hands and onto her bed. She had just been getting ready to send him another text when he burst through her door. Giving him her usual grin, she waved with her good hand, seemingly ignoring his anger.

"Oh, good, you're here! You can help me now!"

"What the hell do you want now?" Realizing that he wouldn't get through to her with his anger just yet, Arakita settled for hearing her out. He scratched at a spot on his thigh, noting that he had yet to change out of his cycling outfit due to his mad dash from the locker rooms to her dorm room.

When she hadn't responded for a few seconds, Arakita moved his gaze over to meet [Name]'s. That's when he noticed the odd predicament she happened to be in. With her shirt slightly over her head, [Name]'s hair was getting tousled around by the bunching fabric, some of it caught in the uppermost buttons of her uniform's blouse. The hem of her shirt had road up a bit, exposing some of her stomach, and the sleeve on her casted arm was getting caught on the ends of the plaster. Noticing that he had finally soaked in the gravity of her situation, [Name] flashed Arakita a sheepish smile.

"I need a little help getting my shirt off," she murmured quietly. It was embarrassing for her, to say the least, not being able to undress herself due to her injury.

Heaving a rather heavy sigh, which ended with an exasperated groan, Arakita kicked the door closed behind him before walking up to [Name]. He'd been helping her all day, so what was one more thing going to hurt?

"This shirt has buttons for a reason," he grumbled, fixing her blouse so that it was on her normally once more. "Try using them next time, stupid."

"It's hard to unbutton things with only one hand," she complained, though her normal smile had returned once Arakita had started helping her.

Fingers starting from the uppermost button on her collar, Arakita went into a sort of autopilot as he went about undoing the buttons. He worked swiftly, going down the line of her shirt and the V-neckline quickly became more open the more he undid. It wasn't until he was about halfway finished did he notice the little flash of white that contrasted against [Name]'s skin tone. It took him a while to comprehend what he was seeing, but once he realized—yes, indeed [Name] was a female and she would be wearing a bra—he found a warm flush rising from his chest to his face.

Noticing that Arakita had hesitated, [Name] grinned as she noticed him averting his eyes. "What the matter, Arakita?" The hum that she had ended her question with told him that she knew exactly what was going on. "Your face is all red. Are you feeling ill?"

"Yeah, sick of helping you all the damn time," he shot back, face flushing a deeper shade of red as he hurried to finish unbuttoning her blouse, nearly ripping the rest of the buttons from their seams.

Once he had finished, Arakita turned away from her so she could remove the shirt. The shuffling of fabric was all he could hear for a while as he assumed [Name] was removing her uniform and replacing it with a regular T-shirt for the night. When the sound of movement stopped, he dared to take a peek and looked over his shoulder to see what was happening.

"Can't you do anything by yourself?" The question, though insulting, had come out rather soft.

Stepping back into his previous position, Arakita reached out to help [Name] pull her night shirt over her head, helping her pull her injured arm through the sleeve as to agitate it as little as possible. He tugged the hem of her shirt down, fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of her stomach as he hid away the white undergarment underneath. It would be her own damn problem when she wanted to try and remove that thing next; there would be no way in hell he would help with that.

"Thanks, Arakita," [Name] chirped in gratitude.

Now that she was fully clothed, there really was no reason for Arakita to be hanging around. Neither party wanted to admit it, but they both didn't really want him to leave. Glancing around for some sort of excuse to keep him longer, [Name]'s eyes landed on the small television her parents had sent over for her to keep in her dorm room. One of her favorite shows would be airing soon and it would be a fun experience watching it with someone else for a change.

Pointing at the television with her good hand, [Name] arched a brow in questioning invitation. "It's still too early for curfew, so did you want to stay over and watch something with me?"

Shrugging a bit, Arakita went over to a spot beside her bed where he would be able to see the television with little to no effort. He kicked the laundry she had on the floor to a different spot before sitting down, crossing his arms behind his head.

"If you put on something stupid, I'm leaving."

"If you say my show is stupid, I'm kicking you out."


	5. Chapter 5

A muted groan resounded through the room, barely drowned out by the sounds elicited by the television. The show that was playing had long been forgotten, all focus redirected toward the current problem at hand—literally. Halfway through the episode [Name] and Arakita had decided to watch, her arm had suddenly started pulsing rather painfully. Every beat of her heart brought forth a sharp tensing of the vessels in her injury. At first, [Name] had tried to ignore it, wanting to finish the show, but the constant reminder that her arm was in distress had gotten the better of her. Rolling over carefully on her bed, [Name] let out another elongated moan as she tried her best to ignore the steady throbbing in her dominant arm.

Arakita had left only a few moments ago, telling her that he'd come back with something for her to drink with the painkillers she had been prescribed to take. His departure was starting to feel like it had happened ages ago however, as [Name] steadily became aware of just how slowly time seemed to move when one was in pain. Counting the seconds between throbs in her arm wasn't helping—in fact, it was making it worse—but there was little else she could do save for lying in bed and bearing with it.

The sound of her dorm room's door slamming open was a momentary distraction from her pain and [Name] nearly wanted to cry with joy as she looked over to who had entered; Arakita was back and he had brought a plastic bag full of drinks!

"This is the last time I'm running out to grab you something like this," he growled, kicking the door shut behind him before stalking over to her bedside.

As he went to sit on the floor beside her, Arakita started unpacking the contents of the small plastic bag he had carried in. It had holes in various places, making her wonder if he had picked it up somewhere along the road to make carrying the drinks easier. He placed the things he had bought on her bedside table and [Name] noted that he'd brought two bottles of Bepsi, his favorite drink, and a couple of small snacks that she enjoyed. He'd probably bought them from the dual vending machines that were just outside the dorm building.

"Thank you, Arakita," she practically sang, sitting up from her position on her bed.

As Arakita opened up one of the bottles of Bepsi, [Name] reached for her easy-to-open bottle of painkillers. She flipped the top of the lid off with her non-dominant hand, dumping half the contents onto the bed beside her before grabbing a handful. Before she could greedily shove the medicine down her throat, Arakita's larger hand grasped onto her wrist, his eyes piercing her with a heavy glare.

"The instructions say to take one, idiot," he reminded her, forcing her to dump the handful she had. He picked up a single pill before placing it in the palm of her hand.

"I know that," [Name] defended, placing the pill between her lips and accepting the opened bottle from Arakita. She took a large gulp of soda, swallowing down the sweet drink along with the bitter pill before letting out a large breath of relief. It would be another few minutes before the painkiller started to kick in.

Opening up his own bottle, Arakita watched as [Name] scooped the rest of her pills back into their container. She was still fidgeting, likely trying to distract herself from the still lingering pain as she waited for the numbing medicine to work. He took slow sips of his drink, attention returning back to the television now that the painful crisis had been officially averted.

Silence consumed the two of them once more as they both went back to watching the show that was airing. Slowly, [Name] ceased her fidgeting, the pain in her arm lessening to a barely noticeable thrum as opposed to its previous mind-numbing ache. Minutes passed by rather quickly as the two of them watched the remainder of the show and soon the ending credits were rolling across the screen.

Stretching from his lounging spot on [Name]'s floor, Arakita could feel the tense muscles in his body creaking and popping after having been still for so long. His movements had knocked his empty Bepsi bottle off balance and the plastic bottle echoed slightly as it bounced along the floor a bit from the sudden impact. He reached over for it; despite it not being his room, he still didn't feel the need to litter around the floor.

"Oi, [Name], where's your trashcan?"

Glancing over at the girl, Arakita was slightly dumbfounded to see her sleeping. When had she stopped watching the show in favor for closing her eyes? Figuring that it had been her painkillers—after all, most of them did have the side effect of making people drowsy—he shrugged it off. He'd just have to throw the bottle away outside her dorm room then.

Standing up from his spot, Arakita felt a little awkward just leaving the room while [Name] lay asleep in bed. He stood around for a few seconds, wondering if he should just leave everything as is. His good judgement got the better of him as he took his first step away from her bed and he walked over to her television to shut it off. Afterward, he went around picking up the stray snack bags and half empty bottle of soda she'd left beside her, moving them to her desk so she wouldn't end up spilling them all over herself in her sleep.

Taking one last glance at her cast covered arm, Arakita clicked his tongue before snatching a black marker from her desk. Careful not to wake or hurt her, he proceeded to write a message on it in a place that would be hard for her to see. Hopefully, with a bit of luck, [Name] wouldn't even realize he had done it until her cast was removed.

"It's going to be a long couple of months," he grumbled quietly to himself, making his way to her room's door before silently leaving [Name] to her rest.


End file.
